


Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-23
Updated: 2007-02-23
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Rose and Tim verbally spar for an audience consisting of Dick's old panties, a paddle, and various restraints.





	Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkDanc3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDanc3r/gifts).



Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Such a silly little cliché, Rose had always thought, but that opinion was currently undergoing revision as she watched Tim observe her struggling in her restraints, barely managing to contain the mocking leer that danced over his features. This wasn’t the Robin she’d come to know because the Titans’ fearless team leader never took delight in anything, as far as she could tell. The man sitting on the bench two feet away from her in his makeshift cave beneath their Tower, on the other hand, was smiling like the proverbial cat that had eaten the canary - if the cat in question was smug enough to leave plenty of feathers sticking out of his paw.

As the last knot finally gave, the rope slipped off her knees and landed on the floor of her cage, next to the blindfold and the gag that had proceeded it. The muscles in her legs ached slightly less with one layer of her binds being shed, and Rose didn’t hold back her smile as she turned to look triumphantly at Tim.

The blindfold had been proof of Tim’s sense of humor, of course, and the gag had been the first item Rose had discarded, because her interactions with Tim weren’t nearly as fun without their on-going verbal sparring. And given the slack with which Tim had fastened her gag, he apparently thought so too.

Speaking of verbal sparring, Tim responded to her current triumphant with a shake of his head before commenting, "You know, Rose, if you’d wanted to wear Dick’s old short pants so bad, you should have told me. We could have done away with this whole charade of competition."

"Oh, you’ll be the one wearing the panties, _Robin,_ " she assured him, biting back a wince as she forced her body to contort into a position that allowed her to reach the first of many locks holding her restraint ensemble together.

Tim barely moved his head to tilt in the direction of the stop watch he was holding. "I was out in nine minutes - "

"Nine minutes and twenty-six seconds," Rose corrected. "Don’ try to lie to the woman holding the stop watch."

It was still odd to see Tim without his mask on, and that feeling only doubled when he rolled his eyes. It was a slight roll, not the exaggerated kind that most people -The Wonder Bitch, for example - did that always had a tendency to make Rose want to slap the shit out of them.

Sneaky eye roll complete, Tim corrected, "The woman who _was_ holding the stop watch. I’m actually holding it now, in case you’ve forgotten."

The lock in question slipped out of her thumbs with the ease of a banana peel coated with grease, making Rose wish Tim would really allow costumes for their activities, no matter how hard it might be to beat _Robin’s_ time instead of _Tim’s._ Her armor would have been much more productive than the skimpy skirt and tight t-shirt she’d put on. Though, Rose conceded, her armor probably wouldn’t have made Tim’s jeans as noticeably tight as they clearly were. Still, it was frustrating not to have her tools within her reach, and she turned her frustrations on Tim. "Asshole." Short, simple, to the point. That approach worked best with Bats, as he and Dick had proved on many occasions.

"Yes, but I’m the asshole with the nine minutes and twenty-six seconds record for you to beat. Only one minute and forty-seven seconds of which was devoted to removing the rope, if I remember correctly. Isn‘t that right, Rose?"

"Yes, _bastard._ It only took you one minute and forty-seven seconds to remove your rope. And I’m sure it’s taken me twice as long."

"Not quite twice. Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. Enough time that it does indeed look like you’ll be the one wearing the panties tonight."

A jerk of her hip and another twist of her shoulder allowed Rose to employ a trick Dick had taught her during his Renegade days. . .days in which they’d played similar games, under the guise of training. _Very_ similar, though with a couple of noticeable differences. Namely, despite all of Rose’s best efforts to the contrary, their games had strictly been for training purposes, as opposed to the elaborate game of foreplay that they served as for Tim.

Well, actually, Rose figured Robin probably saw this as foreplay _and_ training. . . but she wouldn’t think of that until she had time to be distracted.

"Four minutes," Tim called out helpfully.

The first of the locks clattered to the ground a second before Rose spared him yet another glare on her way to picking the second lock. He was leaning backwards in a fashion that wasn’t quite sprawled out on the bench, tapping the black and pink paddle against his knee in an annoyingly perfect rhythm with the hand that wasn’t holding the stop watch. The infamous green short pants that had once belonged to the first Robin balanced on the end of the paddle, bouncing cheerfully with each tap Tim gave to his own knee. It was a rather tempting reminder of the interaction the paddle would have with the Robin panties _after_ their competition was finished.

It was a handsome sight to behold, and Tim’s nearly uncharacteristic smirk made it all the more so, somehow. Tim’s lazy balance and annoying paddle-beats only served as a reminder of how decidedly ungraceful she had to look, squirming around on the floor of the cage trying to get free. Tim had looked less ridiculous doing the same when she had been the one watching, of that she was sure.

But then, it wasn’t really about looking pretty, was it?

"Four minutes, thirty seconds."

"Sadist."

"Perhaps."

"If that‘s the case, then we should really stop doing this _before_ we fuck," Rose commented as casually as she could, as the second of the locks finally gave and fell to the floor. "Might as well incorpor - _OW_ \- ate the bondage into the sex."

"Yes, but then what would we do for foreplay?" Tim asked, not so much as raising an eyebrow as she switched tactics and began working on her ankle restraints.

"We’d still have the paddle."

"You know, _I’m_ supposed to be the impatient one who doesn’t like prolonged foreplay."

"Says who?"

"Male and female archetypes. Society as a whole, if you prefer. Five minutes."

"Yeah, well, society also probably says you shouldn’t be screwing the daughter of the man who’s tried to kill you, your brother, all of your teammates. . . am I leaving anyone important out?"

"Various members of the Justice League. Also, Cassandra’s mind-rape," Tim added with touch of bitterness he usually reserved for Lex Luthor. "We can’t forget that."

"Nope, sure can’t." The ankle restraints didn’t have a chance to hit the ground as they came loose. Instead, Rose used yet another kick learned from Renegade - so helpful he’d been in his little brother’s sex life - and managed to kick the restraints into her waiting hand, thankful Tim hadn't gone for the arm binders that came with mittens. Another slightly uncomfortable arm twist allowed her to place metal next to leather.

The point of the competition was to get free, after all.

Tim frowned slightly and gave his knee a particularly vicious slap - not as hard as Rose planned to tap his soon-to-be panty-clad ass, but harder than his rhythm had been minutes earlier. "Did listing the various horrible things my girlfriend’s sociopath of a father has done have any purpose? Or was it just a way to distract you from the fact that you’re sitting at five minutes and twenty-seven seconds?"

"The point, Boy Wonder, was ‘fuck society.’"

His smile should have been cause for concern, as bright as it was at her words. "Yeah. That sounds like a plan."

It took some effort, and a good deal of force on her behalf, but eventually she managed to snag the leather with the metal portion of her ankle restraints. The force behind her efforts caused the metal to dig into her skin, but she ignored the pain. Feeling the leather finally give on the left side of her splint, she used her strength and the nearest bar of the cage to break that arm free.

"Six minutes," Tim noted casually, observing her progress with a tilted head and raised eyebrow. "Impressive application of the ankle restraints. Shame you had to ruin a perfectly good pair of arm splints, though."

"The point is to get free, Timmy," Rose reminded as she finished ripping her right arm free as well.

"You still have to get out of . . ." Tim trailed off as she employed yet another Renegade trick, pinpointing the weakness of the cage’s lock and using it to her advantage to get free. From the look on Timmy’s face, the trick was a familiar one, belonging to Nightwing as well as Renegade.

"So, what’s my final time?" she asked as she came to stand in front of him, dangling the arm splints with five locks still intact in front of him for a minute before dropping them in his lap.

"Seven minutes," Tim commented. "Nice work, Rose."

Rose leaned down and kissed him on the mouth in reply, hand reaching for the paddle as she did so. She dropped the short pants into his lap as she brought the paddle against her side before commenting, tauntingly, "I owe it all to big brother. We should really send him a video as appreciation."

Tim stood up and began to unbutton his jeans. As his pants fell to the floor, he replied, "The loser has to change. You know where the video equipment is."

As Rose watched Tim slip into his big brother’s old pants, she glanced around their cave and began to contemplate the lighting. No one liked grainy porn films, after all.


End file.
